


so it is and so it will be

by aknightley



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aknightley/pseuds/aknightley
Summary: Their battle to this side of the ship has been hard fought, but he thinks that today, right now, this might actually be the end of the war they’ve been fighting for over thirteen years. An unlucky number turned golden. It’s a thought he’s almost afraid to entertain after so long.





	so it is and so it will be

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY BITCH. I had to say that because I was contractually obligated to. It's Lance's birthday!!! And I wrote him a tense battle-heavy fic that only briefly mentions his birthday. Oops? This is technically in the same verse as my fic ["time out of mind"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9313436) but the other fic isn't really referenced and it can stand alone, so I haven't linked them. Thanks to Beth for reading over this and yelling at me for how emotional it is. 
> 
> Title from Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem, "Dirge Without Music."

Lance hefts his bayard in his hands, his grip almost painful on the handle as he peers around the corner of the Galra ship they’ve infiltrated. He’s almost too aware of all of the bruises and scrapes on his body -- of the aches in his limbs, his knees, of the fact that his breath is a little too short. It’s been a long time since a mission like this one.

Next to him, Keith is muttering under his breath as he talks to Hunk on the comms, trying to figure out everyone else’s placement. He tunes him out, trusting him to relay the information, focusing instead of making sure no one sneaks up on them. The ship is almost unnaturally quiet, no pounding footsteps or alarms blaring where he can hear.

Their battle to this side of the ship has been hard fought, but he thinks that today, right now, this might actually be the end of the war they’ve been fighting for over thirteen years. An unlucky number turned golden. It’s a thought he’s almost afraid to entertain after so long.

There’s a touch to his shoulder, and Lance turns to see Keith looking at him. “Hunk says we should be good to keep going in this direction. Pidge is gonna put up distractions on the far side. The Galra still think Red and Blue are being manned out there, but the lions can only defend the entrance on their own for so long. Our bond and their ability will decrease the further we go. We’ve got limited time here.”

“Got it,” Lance says. He sends Keith a swift grin and reaches out, touching his helmet under the chin to tilt his head up. “Ready to go, babe?”

“Ready when you are,” Keith replies, grinning back.

After so many years, their movement is completely in sync. Lance leads while Keith watches their back, both of them tucking their bayards close to their bodies in preparation for anything. This section of the ship seems suspiciously empty, but then, the rest of the team _is_ raising hell on the other side of the ship right now. Five lions at once, deliberately attacking their storage bay where their most valuable assets have been held, have to be a major hassle. There’s a heavy explosion that rocks them, making Keith stumble a little, and Lance has to put a hand out to his waist to keep him from falling over.

“I think they might be going overboard,” Keith says wryly.

“No such thing,” Lance says cheerfully. “I’ve got a good feeling about this time, Keith. I think we’re gonna get her.”

Keith’s face firms into a determined expression. “Let’s hope so.”

Haggar’s been the only thing keeping them from finally disrupting the last of the Galra rebel forces. After Zarkon’s defeat, his armies had splintered into factions that had been plagued by infighting and assassinations, everyone vying for their assumed rightful place at the top -- aside from Haggar, who commanded her own forces with an iron grip that had let her escape them time and time again while they chipped away at her group. It had been almost five years since they’d defeated Zarkon, and she was still fighting back, trying to resurrect the empire that her former emperor had created -- that she had a major hand in creating.

Her forces were small, but she had a knack for attacking them in places it hurt the most -- once she’d nearly destroyed a planet they’d saved a few years ago, managing to drain half of its quintessence and decimating an entire city in a matter of days. Allura had been equally devastated and furious; they’d been so sure that the days of genocide were behind them. It had been one of the most unsettling and horrifying moments in this entire war for Lance despite all that he’d already seen.

And today, there’s a chance that they might be able to keep anything like that from happening.

He and Keith keep moving forward, disabling the few sentries they come across with ease. Sometimes Lance thinks he could fight these battles in his sleep, considering all of the years of practice he has under his belt. Shooting a drone from down the hall, he turns to Keith, who’s pulling his sword out of the sparking chest of a sentry.

“Are we sure she’s gonna be down here?” he asks. “It seems strange that security’s so light in this area. I know she’s not usually at the front of the fight, but--”

“Allura feels her down here,” Keith says.

There’s a crackle over their comms, and Coran’s voice comes through. “The princess confirms she hasn’t moved. Her energy remains in the central core. We can only assume she’s working on something in there, or making plans for an escape.”

“Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man,” Lance says, trading a grin with Keith. “Are you eavesdropping on us?”

“Always,” Coran says primly. “Continue on your course, paladins. We’re nearly at an end.”

“How’s our best girl doing?” Lance asks, motioning for Keith to follow him. Keith perks up at his question, but moves swiftly behind him when Lance starts walking forward again.

“She’s doing well,” Coran says warmly. “Waiting on you two to get back safe and sound.”

“Copy that,” Keith says firmly. “We’ll be back in no time.”

“Exactly what I like to hear, boys,” Coran says, and then there’s a soft noise as the comms shut down again.  Lance keeps walking, feeling calmer when Keith stays close behind him as they go. There are even fewer guards as they move forward, everything thinning out despite the fact that this should be the most heavily secured area of the entire ship.

“Maybe she’s really down to her last legs,” Keith mutters, watching Lance lower his gun from where he’d shot a drone down, which smokes faintly as they step around it. “We knew after Drova that she was getting desperate.”

“She made it out with a bunch of supplies, though,” Lance says grimly. “And we don’t know what they’ll be able to do with it.”

“Allura’s getting better with understanding druid magic,” Keith says, although he doesn’t sound confident. There’s so much about druids that they still don’t understand, even after so many years. A lot of the aliens they’ve met with any experience in druid magic are still stunned that Zarkon’s regime managed to create a machine that could suck the quintessence out of an entire planet so quickly, though thankfully that machine has been long dispatched. Specifics on something so dark and horrible are limited, especially in a universe where so few with that knowledge remain.

“It’s all gonna be over soon,” Lance says confidently. “As soon as she’s gone, the rest of them will fall apart too.”

“Oh?”

They both spin in place to where the voice had come from, but there’s no one there. A soft laugh echoes around the hallway, hauntingly familiar. Lance steps back and finds Keith already behind him, and they stay pressed together back-to-back as they slowly turn in a circle, surveying the area around them. Lance’s visor display doesn’t indicate anything unusual, but he knows better. This is an old trick.

“Brave paladins,” she says softly. Her voice feels like it’s coming from everywhere at once, crowding his mind. It’s cold and smooth as ice. “You’ve fought for so long. More than a dozen years, now, isn’t it?”

“Keith,” Lance murmurs. “Do you--”

“No,” Keith replies, sounding frustrated.

“Can you keep playing this game forever?” she asks, sounding curious. “Can you live your lives this way indefinitely, always playing this game of cat and mouse?”

“Let’s keep moving,” Lance says. “She’s trying to distract us. She’s not here.”

“Okay,” Keith says; Lance feels a hand briefly reach back and grasp his own in a tight squeeze, and then let go. Under his armor, the ring on the necklace around his throat weighs heavy and comforting against his chest. “Lead the way.”

“Yes, come closer,” she croons. “I have a surprise waiting for you here, paladins. Specially crafted for you two.”

“The two of us?” Keith asks. Lance can’t see his face as they keep moving back to back down the hall, but he can tell he’s frowning. “How could she know we’d be the ones who came down here?”

“Coran?” Lance asks, but there’s no fizzle of static, no sign that they’re being heard. Lance tries to manually reach the castle himself, but nothing happens. “Keith, I can’t hear them.”

“Lance,” Keith says, sounding really worried for the first time. The tone of his voice makes Lance go still. “I can’t feel Red.”

Lance’s stomach drops and he instinctively feels for Blue, but she’s not there. There’s no familiar bond woven between them, that glowing thread that connects them no matter how far apart they are. He can’t feel her fighting anymore, can’t feel her warmth or her fury or her worry at all.

“We’ve been cut off,” he says tightly.

“They finally notice,” she whispers. The sound slides around them like a hiss in their ears, and Lance grits his teeth and quickens his pace.

“Our mission is the same,” he says loudly, trying to drown her out. “We’re going to stop you.”

Keith stays quiet, continuing to watch behind them as they make their way through the twisting corridors. Although their communications are down, the map on their visors hasn’t disappeared, which means as long as Haggar hasn’t moved, they’re still headed in the right direction.

She stays quiet for the rest of their journey deeper into the bowels of the ship, something that almost grates worse than her voice -- he feels like he’s being watched as he leads them both further into what is almost definitely a trap, but there’s no other choice. They have to end this now.

They have so much to live for. He has Keith, his husband, standing here at his side, warm and solid as always; he has --

“We’re here,” Keith says abruptly. The door looming in front of them is impressively large, but doesn’t appear to be locked. Lance experimentally puts his hand on the mechanism, and it slides smoothly open. “Let me go first,” Keith says, pushing ahead of him.

“Keith,” Lance says irritably, “Didn’t we just have a talk like three days ago about you throwing yourself ahead of me?”

“You’ve been in front this whole time,” Keith says mildly. “And I’m faster than you. Your knee--”

“Is fine,” Lance grouses, but he quiets as Keith makes his way slowly into the center of the room. It’s a giant dome-shaped space, with glowing bits of crystal embedded into the walls like some kind of organic substance. It reminds him vaguely of the Balmera, but there’s no warmth here, no comforting knowledge that the space they’re in is a home -- this is a cavern, empty and dark.

“Do you know,” the voice says suddenly, “How long I had been with Zarkon before your precious princess killed him?”

“Do we give a shit,” Lance mutters under his breath. He makes his way to the center of the room with Keith, who gives him a quelling look under his visor.

“Thousands of years,” she says, almost dreamily. “Thousands of years of planning, of effort. All of that magic, all of that research, the top minds we could take from all over the universe bent towards our goals. We were invincible for so many years.” Her voice goes cold again. “And you destroyed it in less than ten.”

“We’re better than you, we get it,” Lance says. He makes eye contact with Keith and gestures with his hands silently, and Keith nods. They separate, spreading out throughout the room slowly, shining the lights off their suits to peer into the gloom. In front of him, Lance can only see the glowing of the walls, the faint outline of some kind of machine that doesn’t appear to be on in the corner. There’s no known presence other than Keith, but the glowing mark on his visor tells him there _should_ be a space witch in here.

“Zarkon was impatient,” she says, almost sighing. “After all those years, all it took was one wretched human to make him lose all of his composure. It’s what led to his downfall. But _I_ am not so impatient. I know how to plan, you see. I know how to research.”

Her voice turns positively gleeful. “I know what you have on that ship.”

Lance’s blood runs cold.

Across the room, Keith’s bayard activates and he hisses a breath out like he’s breathing fire. “Lance,” he says, and his voice is shaking, it’s shaking, the whole room is shaking--

“Keith, we have to go back,” Lance says immediately, turning for the door. “We have to go get--”

An explosion in the far distance echoes through their headsets, audible even through the walls of the ship. As one, he and Keith turn to look in the direction the castle last was. As one, they see, through a window that opens smoothly in the side of the dome, a taunting display meant just for them, the bright light of laser fire aimed at the side of the castle floating far off in the distance. Another explosion covers the side of the ship in white light, the particle barrier apparently inactive as it spreads in a dense cloud. Fire blooms over bulwark and dies as bits of debris splinter away and drift into space.

“I am well familiar with that castle,” she says triumphantly. “I know exactly where the nursery is.”

“No,” someone says, a ragged whisper. He realizes it’s him only after he yells it again, loud enough that it scratches his throat raw. “No!”

“Did you really think you could keep something like that a secret?” She sounds real for the first time -- and when Lance turns, looking through blurred eyes, he can see her, Haggar, standing in the shadows, her eyes glowing brightly in the dark. They’re wild with furious excitement. “A child? Of all the weaknesses you could have handed me, paladins, I did not expect one so easily used.”

“Astrid,” Keith says, sounding stricken. Lance’s heart is in his throat -- he can’t breathe around it, can’t do anything but stare at this horrible, wretched creature and _hate_. He’d thought that he’d felt hate before, every time he saw a war-torn planet, every broken family, every void in space where a planet had once drifted -- but this -- this eclipses everything.

“I’m going to kill you,” he says in a terrible, quiet voice.

“Come and try,” she says, suddenly surrounding him, suddenly at every corner of the room, laughing, cackling, sounding as if she were the very air in front of him.

Lance doesn’t bother turning, shoots directly at the one that had been in front of him. She vanishes in a cloud of smoke and laughs even louder, her voice shrill.

“Don’t you want to know how I broke your pathetic barrier, paladins? How I found out about your bouncing bundle of joy?” Her voice moves in opposite directions like a bad stereo being tuned. He can hear Keith’s grunts of exertion as he swings wildly at her, too slow to keep up with her movements. He focuses on his own fire, aiming methodically, keeping her in his sights at all times, never hitting her. The room fills with smoke from her magic.

“Don’t you want to know what I’m going to do when I get my hands on her?” she asks sweetly.

“You won’t,” Keith says, his voice dark with anger. “You _won’t_ , she’s safe, she’s got to be--”

“What kind of parents are you?” she asks scornfully. Lance feels a prickle on the back of his neck and ducks just in time for a blast of energy to graze his head, shooting just over the top of his helmet. It’s hot enough that he breaks out into a sweat immediately, wincing when it hits the wall opposite him and punches a hole in the wall. Keith makes a muffled noise and Lance looks up in time to see him rolling to his feet, clutching his side.

“Keith,” he says, stomach jumping painfully, but Keith makes the motion that he’s okay and stands up straight again. His eyes widen and he makes a choked noise that has Lance turning automatically, but it’s too late.

“You brought a child into a war,” Haggar says -- she’s right in his ear, and before he can move, she sets her hand on his chest and smiles. Almost immediately he feels himself start to burn, as if fire is licking up his insides and turning him to ash, scorching his blood and bones and limbs. His entire world is pain, too much to contain, so much that he can feel it leaking from his pores. He doesn’t even have the voice to scream, but he can feel the agony of his screams anyways, can taste the blood as it coats the back of his throat while he gasps silently. His knees hit the floor with a heavy thud.

It only stops when Keith charges her and slices at her, and for once, she doesn’t move quickly enough -- Keith pursues her even as she neatly dodges, ducking under her hand and swinging again, and he clips her on the shoulder. She doesn’t even make a sound, but she does look at the cut wonderingly, her mouth curling. The blood is black.

“Lance, are you okay?” Keith asks, panting. Lance’s body is too numb for him to actually know, but he pushes himself to his feet again, trying desperately to draw air into his lungs while the feeling slowly returns to his limbs -- and once it does, the answer becomes apparent that he’s not okay, not at all. She’d only held him for a second.

“Lance?” Keith asks again, more urgently. He keeps his back to Lance, watching Haggar as she examines her wound idly.

“I’m okay,” Lance lies, grimacing. His entire body feels like it’s smoking; a hollowed out, jagged pain starts to pierce its way throughout his limbs, but he’s not broken. He can still move. “Don’t let her touch you, Keith.”

“We can’t stay here any longer,” Keith says lowly. “She’s too fast and we have to get back to the castle.”

“Exit?” Lance asks shortly, struggling but managing to raise his bayard again.

“I don’t--”

“You don’t want to leave so soon, do you?” Haggar asks. She’s multiplied herself again, looming from every corner, grinning so widely that her teeth flash in the darkness like gaping eyes. “I’ve always wondered what a human project would be like from a young age -- Champion was so close to a perfect success, imagine what I could do with more time--”

“Fuck off!” Lance yells. He charges up his sonic beam, letting it build as quickly as his anger. It explodes out of the end of his bayard, twisting around the room in a burst of energy so forceful it knocks him a few feet back, jarring his aching bones. Keith automatically ducks as it moves past him, but several of Haggar’s images are hit all at once, dissolving into mist -- except one, which hisses as her shoulder takes the brunt of the blast.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Keith murmurs as quietly as he can, speaking through their helmets. “The only exit I can see is the door, and she’s blocking us. Ideas?”

“There’s no ducts that I can see. The only thing is that window to outside, but I imagine it’s reinforced.”

Haggar straightens again, her cloak smoldering from the hit, and sighs. “So impatient.”

She extends a hand and there’s a sudden pulling in the air, like the molecules are being dragged in towards her, like she’s sucking the life out of the room. Lance’s pulse begins to race almost against his will, and he puts a hand over his chest as if to keep his heart from also being pulled from him. Her smile is a snarl on her face, fixed in place. The color of the room starts to dull, the color of his suit, the thoughts in his head--

“She’s -- the quintessence--” he gasps, reaching blindly with his other hand towards Keith. He encounters only air, and with a lurching sensation he realizes that Keith is running towards her. “Keith, don’t--”

“Get out of here and get Astrid,” Keith says fiercely, holding his bayard aloft as he runs headlong towards her. Her smile grows, and her outstretched hand suddenly seems to be beckoning him, hurrying him towards her grasp. Keith’s arms are visibly shaking as he hefts the sword above his head.

“ _No_!” Lance shouts, but Keith collides with her, sending them both sprawling.

Her hand connects with Keith’s arm and holds tightly -- the resulting shockwave makes all of them stumble, and then she lets go and cries out viciously.

Keith’s body goes rigid and then starts shaking uncontrollably, but his sword is pinning her to the floor through the shoulder, the same one that Lance shot. He falls away from her with a short, pained noise, a few feet away from her while she writhes on the ground, his own convulsions twisting his limbs unnaturally. Lance is breathless across the room. His husband’s choked cries echoes through his head, and Lance can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think, and somewhere his baby, his daughter is --

 _Lance_. His thoughts waver and then take hold again. He knows that voice.

There’s a massive shudder outside the room, much closer than the explosions before, and then a painful screech like a train crashing as claws pierce the ceiling of the room and slide through the metal like a knife through butter. Lance’s suit automatically seals itself and stabilizes, and he can see Keith’s suit doing the same. Haggar remains still against the ground, but Lance can still see her grin frozen rigid on her face, can see her hand raised in the air. The pulling sensation finally stops.

Keith finally goes still.

Lance’s heart stops and restarts in quick succession, and he finds the strength to stand up and start running towards Keith just as Blue succeeds in ripping the ceiling apart, her furious growls echoing loudly through Lance’s mind. He’s too relieved to be overwhelmed, but the sound shakes him to his core, the absolute animalistic rage that’s being looped through their bond almost driving him to his knees again. He thinks their combined anger and fear could level the world.

He makes it to Keith in time to grab him before he starts to float away as the lack of gravity registers in the room, wrapping his arms around his wrist and tugging him close. Keith doesn’t react, and for a moment his heart stops in his chest as he frantically tips Keith’s head to face him.

Keith’s eyes are half-lidded and his breathing is shallow, but his eyes connect with Lance’s when he sees him. He’s alive. He’s _alive_. Lance wastes a precious moment pressing their helmets together, his stomach shivering with relief.

“Go,” Keith rasps. “We have to--”

Lance doesn’t wait for him to finish, holding him tightly in his arms and using his jets to maneuver them towards Blue’s open mouth. She scarcely waits until he’s inside before she shuts them in firmly and the gravity turns back on, tumbling them to the ground.

“Keith,” Lance says, sitting up and straight and fumbling to right Keith’s prone body, “Keith, please, are you--”

“I’m fine,” Keith whispers. He’s clearly not, still unable to move at all -- under the helmet, his skin is pale and his eyes look faded, less their usual dark blue and more...gray. The fear in them remains. “The castle…”

“Fuck,” Lance says desperately. He hauls Keith up into his trembling arms, unable to bear the thought of leaving him here even if it takes him longer to get up to the cockpit with his hands full. Keith’s head lolls against his shoulder, the helmet knocking against him painfully. His arms are still weak from the blast he took, but he manages to make it to his seat and gently lower Keith to the floor next to him.

Blue is already growling, punching forward as soon as his hands hit the controls, jetting her way towards the castle. Around them, the battle rages on -- Black Lion is weaving effortlessly through the myriad of ships around her, while Green and Yellow maintain a defensive position in front of the castle.

An incoming communication lights up his screen and Lance flips it on automatically, focuses on getting Blue to move just that little bit faster while she struggles to comply.

“Lance,” Allura says, sounding stricken. “Lance, are you there?”

Lance’s eyes track Black as she spins in the air, acknowledging them. “We’re here, Allura. The castle, please tell us--”

“Shiro is on his way, I don’t have comms with him right now, but he’s headed for her,” Allura says quickly. Her voice quakes with terror and grief when she speaks again. “Lance -- I -- I don’t know how this--”

“She’s gonna be fine, princess,” Lance says firmly. “I’m going after her now.”

“You’re not alone,” Hunk says, speaking for the first time. His voice is wet with tears, but he sounds more determined than Lance has ever heard him. Pidge makes an affirmative noise as Yellow and Green both fly together and take aim down the middle of the battlefield, clearing a line of flight for them to the ship. Blue takes advantage of it immediately, twirling her way through firefight and debris alike, heading straight for the castle.

It’s still smoking heavily on one side, sitting still in space. The problem with Allura piloting is that there’s no easy escape for the castle, no warps that would have allowed them to flee -- but it hadn’t been an issue for so long that they’d never considered the harm. On the far side of the castle, there’s no enemy ship that Lance can see -- he has no idea what fired upon them, but he can see that Haggar was right. The explosion occurred on the wing of the castle that they’ve been staying in since they brought Astrid here, to space, to their new home.

Lance remembers the first time he held her, her tiny fist clenching his finger, her dark brown eyes blinking sleepily up at him. The gaping hole in the side of the castle in front of him wafts the memory away, turning his stomach to lead.

There’s movement to his left and Blue turns instinctively, but he realizes all of a sudden that it’s Red, rising from the smoking and sparking wreckage of a ship that’s been torn to pieces. Blue purrs viciously in his mind, and Lance feels the thrill of their triumph echo through the bond. Keith huffs out a soft noise, not quite a laugh but perhaps close.

“Red’s here,” Lance says.

“I can feel her,” Keith replies. “She came as soon as she could.” He sounds a little stronger now, but when Lance glances down at him, he still hasn’t moved. His sprawled body looks like a puppet with its strings cut, limbs tilted strangely, head rolled to the side. Lance tries very hard not to remember all of the planets they’ve found that have been drained completely, tries not to envision their desolate, empty husks. He can’t. He _can’t_ right now. He has so many things running through his mind that holding onto a thought is like trying to hold the wind, slipping through his fingertips and leaving him frustratingly empty-handed.

He can’t break down now.

Lance guides Blue in close to the castle, where the damage is extensive enough that he can actually see inside. There’s a jagged line of exposed metal and wiring, sparks flying and steam venting. Everything inside the castle is completely dark except for a flashing red light.

“I’m gonna go in,” Lance says, standing up. Keith lays still, his breath hitching painfully, and Lance crouches next to him and puts a hand to his helmet, bending down. “Keith,” he says quietly. “I’m gonna get her. And I’m gonna put her in your arms and kiss you both tonight, okay?”

Keith stares up at him with those glassy gray eyes. “Okay,” he whispers.

Lance leaves him in the cockpit, running towards the exit. “Blue,” he murmurs. She responds immediately with a growl that reverberates through his bones. “Keep him safe.”

Making it inside of the castle is simpler than he thought it would be -- the gap is big enough that he fits through easily, jetting his way through the still hot metal as carefully and quickly as he can. The other comms have silenced so everyone can focus; all he can hear is himself breathing, quick, short breaths that almost distract him. He forces himself to calm down, to breath slowly, in and out. It doesn’t help clear his mind, but it helps the ache in his chest to subside a little.

Inside the castle, it’s a wreck. He’s made it in through a room that appears to have been for storage, and once he’s inside, all that he can see is debris from boxes and containers scattered everywhere. Part of him aches at the sight of a painting that’s been reduced to cinders in the corner -- this is one of the last remnants of Altean history, artifacts of a culture that will never be seen again, and it’s crumbling to pieces in front of him.

He can’t linger. He has to move.

When he approaches the door, it doesn’t want to open at first, but he pries open the locking mechanism and does his best to remember everything Pidge and Hunk have ever shown him about Altean machinery over the last dozen years. It’s not often that he or Keith have to mess with stuff like this, but he’s either paid more attention than he realized or somehow lucky enough to fuck up in the right way, because the door slides open and then closed behind him as he walks through it. In here, the gravity seems to be normalized, and his helmet tells him that the oxygen in the hallway is at regular levels as well. He takes a deep breath, relieved that the damage hasn’t extended all the way to the actual nursery, and starts to run.

The nursery isn’t actually that far from their normal living area. He and Keith are mostly keeping her here because there’s enough room for an actual crib in the nursery, and easier access to supplies that she needs. They’ve been sleeping on a cot in the biggest room, waking each other in the night to playfully and not-so-playfully tell each other that it’s their turn to feed her, or change her, or tiredly rock her back to sleep. Lance has spent hours standing next to the window that looked out on the stars, whispering nonsense into Astrid’s hair while they stared at the constellations outside.

It lies at the end of a long corridor, a series of connected rooms that have specific purposes -- toy rooms, and medical rooms, and rooms for sleeping and bathing and feeding. It’s a whole area of the castle meant for raising young children, and sometimes, especially late at night, Lance feels the absence of all of the children who should have been there alongside their daughter, the dozens and hundreds of Alteans who might have grown up here, and it pulls at his heart like guilt.

 _You brought a child into a war_ , he thinks, a hushed echo of Haggar’s voice.

They’d fought so hard for her -- they’d talked for months about it, about their options of raising a child, about the practicality and the logistics and timing, about what was right and wrong. They’d fought each other, and their parents, and their friends -- they’d fought for days and weeks and finally an entire year trying to parse their choices, warring with their brains and hearts.

But then there she’d been, with her big brown eyes and her curly black hair. It had been a messy and painful series of events but suddenly there she was, theirs if they wanted her. Lance remembers the first time he’d seen her, how his heart had jumped into his throat and lingered, how his hands had reached for her instinctively, knowing she was meant for them.

He and Keith had looked at each other, and they’d known that they couldn’t leave her behind. A few weeks after his 30th birthday, he’d become a father.

They’d thought that the war was almost over. They’d thought that there was no way anything would ever happen to her, that this nightmare would be dead and done before she was even aware it was happening. It had been years since they’d felt truly frightened by the idea of Galra rebellion -- they were tying up loose ends, finishing the last strokes of a long, tiresome book.

Stupid. They’d been so fucking stupid.

Astrid’s room is one of the first in the wing, and he slams the button on the door without stopping, nearly running into it before it opens in his haste. When he gets into the room, he realizes two things in quick succession: his baby is not in her crib, and there is someone else in here.

His bayard is in his hands before he comes to a full stop, and he’s aiming at the corner of the room before he’s really aware of what he’s doing. A faceless figure in a dark cloak stands there, at least seven or eight feet tall. In their arms, a blue and white bundle rests quietly. Lance’s blood boils hot in his veins.

“Stand down,” he says quietly, keeping his gun aimed at the figure’s head.

The druid doesn’t speak, simply raises a hand. Lance shoots at it without pause, forcing them to dart back to avoid losing their limb. He takes advantage of the moment and keeps moving forward, trying to close the gap, knowing that any distance between them is space that will put Astrid in more danger, knowing that at any moment, she could be hurt by either one of them. He gains maybe four feet before the druid lowers their hand back down to the bundle and Lance is forced to stop.

“Your leader is dead,” Lance says, although he doesn’t know that for sure. He’s fairly certain the normal rules of space don’t apply to Haggar, but he wants to believe that she’s dead. He hopes with every black thought he’s ever had that she’s been torn into as many pieces as the ship outside, that she’s floating among the stars, as irretrievable and useless as debris. “You should give up now.”

The hand on Astrid twitches a little, and the cloaked head tilts, as if measuring the truth in Lance’s words. There is a long, drawn out silence that Lance is terrified to break because he doesn’t know what to do next -- his plans are rapidly diminishing in the face of a monster holding his child.

There’s a sudden noise behind him, drawing both of their attention, but before he can turn around, someone is standing next to him, a gun held aloft, pointed straight at the druid.

“Shiro,” Lance says, nearly weak with relief. Shiro stands tall next to him in the Black Paladin armor, a suit that rarely sees action anymore. There’s sweat visible at his brow, and a few scratches and black marks on the suit. Lance wonders briefly if the rest of the castle is compromised, where Coran is.

“I’ve got your back,” Shiro says. His hands are steady as they hold the gun, but he sounds exhausted. “Is Keith--”

“I don’t know,” Lance says. He swallows painfully, trying not to think of Keith motionless and alone in Blue’s cockpit. “He’s with Blue.”

“You got a plan?” Shiro asks quietly.

“I don’t think they want to hurt her,” Lance replies, watching the druid watch them. The moment between them holds tenuously. “I need to get close enough to grab her without letting them know what I’m doing. Can you distract them?”

“Yes,” Shiro says, no hesitation. He’d been one of the first people to get to hold Astrid when they brought her back home, and he’d cried for half an hour when she’d smiled at him for the first time a few months ago, even though Matt made fun of him for it for weeks after.

“I’m going to do something and then I need you to pin them back against the wall,” Lance says. “Be ready.”

Shiro signals his acknowledgement and then waits, keeping the gun raised as Lance lowers his own. He opens his visor, pulling his helmet off of his head and letting it fall to the ground. The druid watches him, emotionless and reactionless, still holding a hand against the bundle.

Lance takes a deep breath and says, “Astrid?” He calls her name like he does in the mornings when he goes to get her and finds her staring wide-eyed at him, like he does when he stumbles into her nursery at night and picks her up out of the crib as she wails miserably in his ear. He calls for her the way he does when she reaches her hand up and grabs hold of Keith’s hair, pulling as hard as she can just to see him make a face. He calls for her like he does when he sings her to sleep at night, making songs out of her name and the stars around them, twirling her so she can stare into the universe and calm. He calls for his daughter and the bundle stirs in the druid’s arms, a tiny fist poking out as she slowly wakes.

There’s a breathless pause, and then Astrid begins to cry.

Her whimpers turn into screams that reach a fever pitch startlingly quickly, the druid pulling their hand away in surprise or confusion, lowering her just enough to expose their chest. Without giving them time to react, Lance’s bayard changes from his usual gun to a stave with a long, wickedly curved blade on the end. Shiro immediately fires at the druid, nailing them directly in the chest just above where Astrid is screaming and knocking them back towards the wall, firing again when they try to move forward.

Lance runs at them with the stave held level and doesn’t stop until the blade is buried in the druid’s throat, sunk deep into the wall behind them. There’s a satisfying gurgling sound as they claw at the handle of the stave with one hand and struggle to pull free, but it only tears the gash wider, and Lance watches with vicious pleasure as they slowly, painfully die.

He reaches out and pulls Astrid from their drooping hand before they can drop her, stepping back quickly and holding her close to his chest. She’s still crying loudly enough to deafen him, but he doesn’t take the time to comfort her just yet.

“We need to get out of here,” Lance says, and Shiro gestures for him to leave first and let him follow. He snags his helmet on the way out, putting it on awkwardly with one hand.

The hallway feel somewhat normal again when Lance steps back into it -- he’s walked down this corridor with a crying baby often enough that perhaps it just feels like any other day until he remembers that there’s still a battle raging on outside. Shiro’s right behind him, closing and locking the door as it slides shut.

Lance taps into the comms, zeroing in on Keith’s connection. “Lance?” Keith asks immediately. “Lance, is she--”

“I’ve got her,” Lance says, and swallows painfully as Keith lets out a quick rush of air, feeling tears scald his eyes. Astrid’s sobbing starts to slow down as she realizes she’s being held by her father, and she cranes her neck so she can look up at him with huge red eyes, hiccupping. He rocks her gently, automatically making a soothing noises as if this were any other midnight outburst, letting Shiro take the lead as they make their way back to the main part of the castle. “Keith, are you still okay?”

“I moved my hand,” Keith says. “So that’s something.”

“I’m gonna grab you as soon as I can,” Lance promises, adjusting Astrid as she starts to squirm unhappily in his arms. Shiro’s talking to someone on his own comms, and Lance widens his transmission to catch the end of Allura’s relieved sigh.

“I’m so glad,” she says, and then seems to realize Lance is listening as well. “Lance, we’ve finished off the last of the enemy ships out here. I’m sending Pidge and Hunk to check for signs of Haggar. Keith told us he left her pinned to the floor with his bayard.”

“What will we do if she got away?” Keith asks quietly.

There’s a short silence, and then Allura makes an indecipherable noise. “We’ll deal with that when we come to it. For now, I’m returning to the castle to make preparations for us to leave as soon as possible. Red and Blue have already returned to the hangar on their own.”

“Coran, did you run a scan?” Shiro asks.

“I’ve searched the entire ship from top to bottom, Shiro,” Coran confirms. “The only enemy is the one left in the nursery. They’re -- almost gone now. I’m watching them.”

Shiro pauses, reaching out and grabbing hold of Lance’s shoulder. His other hand passes gently over Astrid’s back, a smile stealing over his face. “Lance, you should take her to the infirmary. Check on her, get yourself scanned. I’ll bring Keith to you soon.”

Lance swallows -- everything in him wants to go to Keith and see him for himself as soon as possible, to confirm that he’s going to be alright with his own eyes. He feels absolutely wretched that he left him at all, alone and unable to even lift a hand after almost dying.

But he knows that Shiro will be faster than him, and he wants to be sure Astrid is unharmed. He nods his acquiescence and splits off from Shiro when he turns to go to where the lions are kept. He instead heads towards the infirmary as quickly as he can without jostling her too much, trying to disguise the movement as playful bouncing. She’s finally quieted to sniffles, clinging tightly to the hand pressed against her side.

A quick scan of Astrid reveals that she’s somehow miraculously unharmed, despite being in the potential line of fire of both her father and uncle’s weapons and a druid’s magic. Lance is so relieved his knees go weak, and he has to crouch on the floor clutching her to his chest for a minute until he can feel his limbs again. She makes fussy noises and pats at him until he stands up again.

He puts her in a carrier and quickly scans himself, confirming that he’s got minor scrapes (and he badly aggravated his knee, which makes him wince) but that there’s no lasting damage from whatever Haggar did to him. He hopes that means that whatever’s happened to Keith isn’t irreversible either.

Almost as soon as he’s done, the door opens and Shiro walks in with Keith draped across his back. Astrid sees the red suit and makes a distressed noise, reaching out immediately with grasping hands. Keith lifts his head to look at her and smiles, although his arms continue to hang limply around Shiro’s shoulders.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Keith says softly. Astrid coos as Shiro sets Keith gently down on the table next to her carrier. His helmet is already off, his hair sweaty and disheveled where it’s stuck to his forehead. His eyes are starting to gain their color again, more dark than light now. “Lance, please, can you bring her--”

“One sec,” Lance says, and Shiro gets out of the way just in time for Lance to grab him as carefully as he can and kiss him deeply. Keith can’t wrap his arms around him the way he usually would, but he does push up into the kiss desperately, tilting his head when Lance cups the back of his neck, gasping into his mouth when Lance pulls back just long enough to choke out his name before he kisses him again. Lance pours his terror and panic and anger and relief into the kiss, trying not to think of the sight of Keith’s body convulsing on the floor, of leaving him broken and alone, of all of the things that could have gone wrong. Keith’s kisses are all apologies and gratefulness and comfort, fervently pressed upon his lips until finally his head falls back against the cot with a thud. He makes a face when Lance immediately scowls at him. “You asshole,” Lance says, wiping his face where tears have streaked down his cheeks. “You ran right at her, you absolute asshole--”

“We can do the yelling later,” Shiro says. “I’m gonna grab the scanner, Lance.” Lance breathes a frustrated sigh and Keith grins at him, unrepentant. There’s an impatient noise to his right, and he looks up to see little socked feet kicking the air.

“Astrid,” Keith says, almost singing her name. She perks up at the sound of his voice. Lance reaches out and picks her up out of the carrier, settling her along Keith’s side while Shiro runs a scanner over his body. “Hello, baby,” Keith murmurs.

“Told you I’d put her in your arms,” Lance says quietly. Keith makes a face, looking down at his prone body.

“It would be nice if I could actually move to hold her,” he mutters. Shiro clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and lowers the scanner.

“This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but you almost died.” Lance makes a choked noise and Keith sighs as if mildly annoyed. “I think the only reason you’re okay is that you were put into the Blue Lion so quickly -- their quintessence is much more powerful than ambient energy, and I think she helped save you. Otherwise, I think you might have--” Shiro cuts himself off, swallowing tightly. “But I think you just need rest and time. Coran will be able to tell you more when he gets here.” He lowers the scanner and sets it aside, his face drawn.

“Thank you, Shiro,” Lance says. _You almost died_ , he thinks weakly, looking at Keith, who’s staring fondly at Astrid and ignoring them. He’s heard those words so many times over the last decade, and they still gut him. He feels like he wants to hit him, except he also wants to grab him and not let go for the _next_ ten years. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Keith admits, and then pauses, assessing. “Empty,” he says, more quietly. “Like someone took a spoon and scraped my insides out. But I think I’ll be able to move my hand soon.” He looks down at his left hand and his fingers twitch slowly.

“I’m gonna go check and make sure everything’s okay out there,” Shiro says, reaching out and tugging at one of Astrid’s toes gently. “I’ll comm the room if anything changes.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Lance says, watching the two most important people in his life watch each other. Astrid appears fascinated with Keith’s sweaty bangs, tugging at them and gurgling when Keith just makes a pained face.

Shiro sets a hand on Lance’s shoulder briefly, then walks out of the room, putting his helmet back on as he goes.

“Can you help me get out of the armor?” Keith asks, muffled. “It’s digging into me, and--” Astrid slaps her hand onto Keith’s face and pushes his skin, and he jokingly bites at her fingertips. She does it a few more times for good measure, making pleased noises when he growls softly at her.

“Yeah,” Lance says, smiling as he gently pulls their baby away from Keith and puts her back in her carrier. She blinks her big eyes at him, clearly unhappy with being taken away from Keith, but watches quietly as Lance carefully strips Keith out of his armor until he’s left in the black undersuit. He gently lowers him back down to the bed, adjusting his shoulders against the pillow while Keith sighs.

The gem on the ring on Keith’s left hand glints blue in the bright lights of the infirmary, standing out against the black of Keith’s suit where it rests across his torso. Lance picks it up and threads their fingers, pleased when Keith is able to squeeze back. He lifts their hands and presses a kiss to the ring before holding it against his heart, wondering if Keith can feel how quickly it’s still beating, like he hasn’t stopped running, like the fear won’t leave him.

“I was -- so scared,” Lance murmurs, closing his eyes. It’s like his mind can’t settle on what was the worst part, images of Keith and Astrid and Haggar and the druid flashing across his vision in rapid succession. He opens his eyes again to see Keith staring at him with dark eyes. “Keith, she almost -- she almost took her from us. Took both of you.”

“You saved her,” Keith says firmly. His hand tightens around Lance’s and he glances to the side, where Astrid sits chewing absently on her own fingers, oblivious to their serious expressions. “You saved us both.”

“What if she was right?” Lance whispers. “What if we made a mistake, bringing her here? We should have waited, we should have--”

“I don’t regret it,” Keith interrupts. When Lance looks at him, his eyes are blazing in his face, his mouth a firm line of stubbornness. “She’s our _daughter_ , Lance. If we’d waited, we wouldn’t have her. I -- I can’t live without you two. I don’t want to live without you.” He swallows, and, with what looks like tremendous effort, slowly reaches out with the hand not grasped in Lance’s and puts it to his cheek. “We are always gonna be there to save her. I _know_ we will.”

Lance doesn’t realize he’s crying again until he feels the tears drop off of his chin. Keith rubs away the tracks with the pad of his thumb, waiting patiently until Lance can speak again.

“I love you,” he says, grabbing the hand against his cheek and holding it there. “I’m so glad you’re okay, that you’re both okay.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath, calming himself down, and then gives Keith a pointedly annoyed look. “Even if you’re still an asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith says, laughing a little. His arm finally loses strength again, dropping back to the bed with a slight thump, and he makes a face. “Give me my baby back.”

Lance picks Astrid up and holds her close to his own chest, smoothing a hand over her messy curls. “You can have her back when you have actual motor function again.”

Keith pouts a little, pushing his lower lip out. “That could be hours, Lance.”

“Compromise,” Lance says, and then crawls into bed with Keith, tucking himself all along his body and balancing Astrid between them. She looks up at them and makes soft, curious noises, smiling when they grin at her. Keith’s head falls against Lance’s shoulder heavily, and he lets out a long sigh, closing his eyes. “Hey,” Lance murmurs, nudging him a little. “I can’t live without you two either.”

“I know,” Keith says quietly. “I’m sorry for worrying you again.” They fall silent, watching Astrid grow bored of them and yawn widely, her eyes falling half-lidded. “I love you too, you know,” he says. His hand slides over Astrid’s back to cover Lance’s, and Lance makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. Astrid’s eyes close completely, her breathing slow and steady. Keith sounds like he’s not far behind her.

“Get some rest,” Lance says, smiling, pressing closer to him. “I’ll watch over you.”

It doesn’t take long for Keith to slip off into sleep, obviously exhausted. Lance can feel the ache of the fight still lingering in his own bones, his knee stinging sharply where it hit the ground. He still feels the anxious twist of not knowing whether or not they’ve succeeded here today, of not knowing for sure that his friends are really alright. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen from here on out, whether or not they can stay here in space now that they’ve felt the risks firsthand. He knows there’s a lot of conversation to be had, and he knows there’s going to be hard times ahead. He knows he’s going to have nightmares about tonight for the rest of his life.

But lying here in a bright room, with his husband and his daughter held tight against him, he finds it hard to focus on anything but their warm bodies, their quiet breathing, their heartbeats pressed close. He takes a deep breath, tightens his grip, and waits for the morning to come.

**Author's Note:**

> This is like. Such a weird fic to write for a dude's birthday. I just wanted to give him a cool battle scene w/ high stakes idk. A couple of things!: 
> 
> 1\. You can choose to believe what you want re: Haggar being dead or alive. I have my thoughts but I'll let it hang.  
> 2\. Don't ask me how they got a baby. It's a sort of blurry haze in my head of familial obligations/accidental acquisition.  
> 3\. I've taken liberties (as I usually do) re: the lions' abilities and quintessence. I like to think that the lions can more or less move around on their own, they just can't form Voltron/use their weaponry without pilots. I think the lions are only sentient bc of quintessence and therefore have a lot of it, and I think quintessence is able to heal people. Hopefully if you were skeptical you can give me a pass.  
> 4\. Let me know if you were surprised about the baby lmao.
> 
> Okay, sorry for the bunches of end notes! You can find me at [apvrrish](http://apvrrish.tumblr.com) on tumblr, and at [@apvrrish](http://twitter.com/apvrrish) on twitter! Thank you very much for reading!


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